


Into the Forest of Fireflies' Light

by hopeboos



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Conventions, Cosplay, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Manga & Anime, Person You're Only Friends With in Class to Lovers, Teen Crush, anime knowledge not required to read, just sweet n cute rly, lets talk about jun in a skirt, useless gays being useless, weeb junhui and his massive crush on gamer cheol, you'll probably know more than cheol does
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25448458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeboos/pseuds/hopeboos
Summary: "Junhui?"“Erm,” Junhui says, frozen in place. “No?”“I didn’t think I’d meet you here today!” he says, resting his hands on the table and leaning forwards with a smile. “What are you dressed as?”“Gin,” he says, faintly.Seungcheol nods, absolutely none the wiser. “Cool! You guys all look really cool.”orSeungcheol accidentally meets his classmate at an anime convention, and starts to learn more about Junhui's favourite interest.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 31
Kudos: 153





	Into the Forest of Fireflies' Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ccotton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccotton/gifts).



> thank u cotton for requesting this fic!! it was fun to write and i rly hope you enjoy it, and that it lives up to what you were hoping for!!
> 
> this fic contains spoilers for the anime movies hotarubi no mori e and kimi no na wa (your name), but watching is not required to read the story!
> 
> enjoy :)

Dahye drops onto his bed without reservation, the impact making him bounce slightly on the mattress. His internal alarm bells are going off as she does, because it’s very weird that his sister is in his room, sitting on his bed—she likes to tell him that his room smells of teenage boy even from down the corridor, and usually refuses to take a step inside in case she ‘catches cholera’ from his ‘mouldy cups’. Still, he doesn’t look up from his phone when she sits, preferring not to give her the satisfaction of a response. He’s only ever grown mould in a cup once, after all, and she’s terribly unfair about bringing it up.

Usually. The fact that she hasn’t mentioned that instance, despite her presence in his room, is unusual.

“Seungcheol,” she says, and he turns the volume up on his phone, making it clear that he’s in the middle of a game of _Kart Rider_. “Can you give me a second?”

“No,” he says. He’s currently in first place, and Wonwoo and Jihoon are both in the game, and it’s important he proves that he can beat them. Again.

“Really?” she says, standing again. “Shame. I suppose you are supposed to be studying. Shall I call Mom and see if you have time for her?”

“No!” he says, and immediately goes careening into a barrier, his focus lost. Second and third place speed past him, Wonwoo among them.

“That’s alright, I can see you’re busy…”

“Not busy,” he says, crossing the finish line in fourth place and dropping his phone. He looks up at her, hands raised. “Not at all. What do you want?”

“Right,” she says, pushing a crumpled shirt off his desk chair and delicately sitting down in it. “You remember when you tried to cook dinosaur nuggets for yourself, but then forgot about them? You nearly set the apartment on fire and broke the oven in the process.”

“You will never let me forget,” he sighs.

“I’m bringing it up for a reason. If you remember, Mom and Dad never found out about it. It could be a hilarious family shaming story by now, but I’ve kept my mouth shut for all these years. Aren’t I a good sister?”

“What is it you want?”

“Aren’t I a good sister?” she demands, an edge to her voice.

“Are you about to blackmail me again?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“I feel like it isn’t.”

“Seungmin is sick, she won’t be able to make it this weekend,” Dahye says breezily. “I need someone to help me out on the stall.”

“Why?” he groans. “Why me? I don’t know anything about your work.”

“You don’t have to know anything. You just have to take money from people when they want to buy something, put it in a bag, and give it to them.”

“Don’t you have any other friends?”

“They’re all going to the convention for their own stalls, or their own cosplay, or to see Hiromu Arakawa at her panel. Also, you owe me.”

“I’ve owed you for years because of those dinosaur nuggets!”

“Come on, it’s only one day! I’m giving you free entry into the biggest anime convention in the country, and it’s not like you’re doing anything better on Saturday. It’ll be an excuse to get out of studying, if anything.”

“Mom will just expect me to study when we get back instead,” he grumbles.

“I’ll treat you to food afterwards, then.”

He perks up at that. “Food? Good food?”

“Good food. We’re going to need it after nine hours on our feet.” She stands, claps her hands together, and turns to pick her way out of his room. “Glad you came to your senses.”

“I haven’t agreed yet!”

“Yes, you have,” she says, without looking back. “We can go to that Chinese place you love, and order as much food as you want.”

He opens his mouth to complain, but she’s already gone, and he’s salivating at the thought of the Chinese from that place. They haven’t been there in so long, and he has no money to order anything for himself. The promise of unlimited food is tantalising, to say the least. Perhaps Dahye does know the way to his heart.

He picks his phone back up to see a spam of annoying messages from Jihoon and Wonwoo. The game has timed out, his character waiting for him in the lobby.

 _Think I just agreed to a day of free child labour,_ he sends to the chat. _How to escape the tyranny of an older sister?_

 _Don’t agree when she asks you for free child labour,_ Wonwoo replies.

Jihoon quickly follows up with an unhelpful string of ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ.

_She’s buying me food for it… I was going to invite you guys to come and help me spend her money_

_In that case,_ Wonwoo quickly rectifies, _it’s not free labour at all, and you should definitely invite us to the help collect your wage in food. Time and place?_

His smile returns, small and smug. _I’ll tell you if you can beat me in one more race._

 _No problem,_ Jihoon says, a game invite already popping up over their chat.

 _You’re on,_ Wonwoo replies.

Seungcheol grins, rolls over onto his elbows, and prepares to race.

-

His sister shows him a list of her inventory when they arrive, labelled with prices and stock amounts for each item, and it’s absolutely no help—he has no idea what the difference is between the Hyakkimaru mug and the Hisoka mug, or the All Might hoodie and the _One Piece_ hoodie, or what the hell a Nezuko Kamado Nendoroid is.

“I told you, I don’t know anything about your work!” he says, watching her stick the inventory on the inside of the table. “How am I supposed to know what anyone’s buying?”

“Check the label, why don’t you? It’s straightforward, anyway, the items are more or less the same price no matter what brand they’re from, so just charge people the right amount for the item. I’ll handle the replica side of the table, so you’ve got the easy part.”

The convention doors open at 9 sharp, crowds swarming inside in droves, which is extremely distracting at first. Half the attendees are dressed up— _cosplay_ , Wonwoo’s voice in his head provides—with girls in low cut leather and red wigs, guys in vibrant purple suits, other people passing by in maid outfits or superhero costumes or school uniforms. His sister is efficient and professional, but he doesn’t have much time to watch and learn—the hall is filling up fast, and people are quick with their decisions, pointing out items and requesting prices faster than he can keep up.

“How much for the Lelouch figure?”

“Uhh,” Seungcheol says, staring at the bulky grenade-shaped arms this guy has on his suit, which are dangerously close to knocking over half of their figurines.

“150,000 won,” Dahye says swiftly, and grenade arms retracts his hand, picking up a packet of pin badges instead.

He gets into the swing of things by lunch time, finding his rhythm in taking cash in exchange for figures, or trading cards, or t-shirts with crazy-looking anime girls on them. The crazy-looking anime girls are the fastest sellers, actually. A lot of their items have sold out by mid-afternoon, with hours left of the convention—he wonders why Dahye didn’t bring more stock.

“There’s only so much we can carry, and only so much we can store,” she says, deftly unclipping the big replica sword hanging behind their table. “This always happens at Comic World, it’s so popular. We’ve done well today. If everything sells out before the end of the day, we could even leave early.”

He starts smiling at the people passing by, after that, strength renewed at the promise of his impending Chinese reward. They’re less overwhelmed, now—he can hear a popular panel happening on the other side of the convention hall, drawing the crowds away—but plenty of people are still passing by the stalls, peering in on their remaining wares.

The most interesting part of his day happens when a guy wearing an orange tracksuit and a metallic headband drags his friend up to their table, pointing excitedly at the back of their stall.

“Seungkwan! Look! Look at that!”

Seungkwan squints at the pile of boxes stocked on the back table. He’s wearing a sports kit and holding a volleyball under his arm, orange wig artfully spiked. “What? What am I looking at?”

“There! That’s a nightlight shaped like Naruto! I have to have it! I’ve wanted something like that for so long!”

“Okay…” Seungkwan says, side-eyeing tracksuit boy. Seungcheol can see his opinion written on his face, and he kind of shares it—the nightlight looks tacky as hell, but Seungkwan isn’t about to say that with Seungcheol clearly listening to them. “So buy it then?”

Tracksuit locks eyes with Seungcheol, patiently waiting on his decision, then looks back at the nightlight. “Erm, how much is that?”

“Ah,” he says. He hasn’t actually looked up the price yet—they haven’t sold many of those. He runs a finger down the list… shaped like Naruto, he had said. “70,000 won.”

“Oh,” he says, staring at the nightlight despondently.

“Just buy it if you want it,” Seungkwan says. “It’s not like you’re going to see something like that again.”

“I spent most of my money on the Akatsuki bed set,” he says. “If I buy this, I won’t have any cash left.”

“You’ll have sweet dreams of Naruto, though, between your light and your sheets. Seokmin will be so impressed.”

“Right, he will…” he murmurs, gazing at the box with unfocused eyes.

Seungkwan sighs, then turns to call over his shoulder. “Hyung! Stop hiding and come and tell Soonyoung to buy this thing he wants, otherwise we’ll never make it to the Fruits Basket panel!”

“Don’t you think I should save some money for the Makkachin plushie I’m looking out for?”

“If you haven’t seen one by now, I don’t think we’re going to come across one here.”

There’s a boy edging closer to them from where he’d been hiding behind a nearby pillar, hands fidgeting at his sides, coming to stand behind the pair and watch them bicker. He has this mask covering his face—a white cat print with delicate red markings—so Seungcheol can’t get a read on his expression, but he doesn’t intervene in the debate as Seungkwan had clearly hoped.

“But what if we do?” Soonyoung insists. “I won’t be able to forgive myself.”

“Hyung,” Seungkwan says, impatiently reaching for the masked boy. “He should just buy it, shouldn’t he?”

Cat-face nods without saying a word. He must be really in-character, or something.

“See,” Seungkwan says. “Maybe he’ll even buy one with you. Look, Hyung, there’s a Sailor Moon one there, do you want to get that?”

“I’ll get one if Junhui gets one,” Soonyoung says, turning to him. “Are you going to get one?”

Seungcheol looks up at the cat boy again. “Wait, Junhui? Wen Junhui?” He can see it, now that it’s pointed out to him—he and Junhui aren’t close friends, but they sit next to each other in math, so he knows what he looks like well enough. Tall, thin, broad-shouldered, with delicate fingers and thick hair parted to the side, currently sprayed white for his cosplay.

“Erm,” Junhui says, frozen in place. “No?”

“I didn’t think I’d meet you here today!” he says, resting his hands on the table and leaning forwards with a smile. “What are you dressed as?”

“Gin,” he says, faintly.

Seungcheol nods, absolutely none the wiser. “Cool! You guys all look really cool.”

“Thanks!” Seungkwan says.

“If you’re friends with Junnie, can we get a discount?” Soonyoung asks, hopeful.

“Sorry, this isn’t actually my stall. You’d have to take that up with the boss,” he says, gesturing to his sister, who is arranging their last stock of anime girl keychains on the table. “But she’ll say no. She’s stingy like that.”

“Just buy it,” Seungkwan says, shifting to hold his volleyball in two hands. “I swear to god, this panel starts in about three minutes.”

Soonyoung angles his body away from him, clearly prepared for some volleyball-related assault. “Alright. I’ll buy it. Argh! Please give me the Naruto. You can have all my money.”

“That’s more like it,” Seungkwan says, shifting the ball under his arm again.

Seungcheol turns to pick up the box from the top of the pile. “Alright! 70,000 won, please.”

“You sure you don’t want the Sailor Moon, Hyung?” Seungkwan says. When Junhui silently shakes his head, he waves a hand in Seungcheol’s general direction. “Fine. It was fun meeting you…” 

“Seungcheol,” he provides, handing Soonyoung his bag. “Thanks guys!”

Soonyoung looks up at him properly, then, and Seungkwan stills where he was gearing up to leave. “Oh, Seungcheol,” he says with a smile, extending a hand properly. “It’s nice to meet you!”

“Really nice!” Soonyoung agrees, a smile on his face now, money woes disappeared. “You’re pretty cool!”

“Thanks,” he says, slightly bemused as he shakes Seungkwan’s hand. “I’ll see you at school, Junnie. Enjoy your panel, guys!”

“Oh, we will,” Seungkwan tells him with a grin. “Won’t we?”

Junhui only gives Seungcheol a little salute and a half-botched bow before turning and leaving the table, Soonyoung laughing as he goes to catch up with him.

“You can’t leave like that!” he hears Seungkwan shout, running after them and throwing his volleyball at Junhui’s back. It bounces off him and back into his hands again, and Junhui turns to put an arm around Seungkwan’s shoulders, firmly steering him away from the stall.

“Who was that?” his sister says, watching them disappear into the crowd. “The Gin was acting like he would rather be anywhere else than in your presence.”

“Junnie? He’s alright. He was probably just feeling shy. At least we got a sale out of it, right? Aren’t I doing well?”

“You didn’t get shit out of them. Hinata pressured Boruto until he bought the damn nightlight. At least you know who Naruto is.”

“I do know who Naruto is!” he huffs. “I’m not completely clueless!”

“Could’ve fooled me,” she says through a smile, straightening up as a group of teenage boys approach her replicas.

He looks out to the convention floor, but Junhui and his friends are long gone. The whole encounter was strange, really, because he didn’t even know that Junhui was into this sort of thing before today. He’s mentioned manga and webcomics to him before—you end up talking a lot of shit, sat next to each other in math class for seven hours a week—but Seungcheol has never been much good at taking in the details, because he doesn’t know anything about Japanese media. He feels a bit guilty about that. Perhaps Junhui would’ve told him more about this part of his life if Seungcheol were a better listener.

“Do you sell any mousepads?” a middle-aged man asks, pulling Seungcheol out of his thoughts.

“Ah… just this one,” he says, picking up the Pikachu mousepad from the far side of the table.

The guy glances at it, then back at Seungcheol.

“They don’t allow us to sell age-restricted merchandise at Comic World,” Dahye says, appearing at his side. “If that’s what you’re looking for.”

The guy looks at her, then awkwardly leaves the stall.

“I don’t think I understand your work any better now, Noona,” he admits, putting Pikachu back down next to the Pokémon kitchen set.

“That’s alright,” she says, patting him on the shoulder. “Some things are better not to know.”

-

When he comes into class on Monday, Junhui is already there, hunched over his notebook and waiting for their teacher to arrive. Seungcheol drops his bag under the table and takes his seat, leaning forward on the desk to watch him scribble.

“Do you draw too?” he asks, and Junhui startles, looking around at him with wide eyes.

“Erm,” he says, turning the page in his notepad quickly. “Not really. Just doodles.”

“Oh, I’ve seen your doodles before. They’re cute. The cat is my favourite.”

Junhui gives him a small smile, looking down at the table. “Mine too.”

“I can tell. The mask you were wearing on Saturday was so cool. That was a cat too, right?”

Junhui nods, glancing at him. “It’s a Japanese yokai mask, actually. It’s associated with spirits in traditional Japanese folklore, because Gin... well, it makes sense in the context of the anime.”

“Really? So he’s like, a spirit?”

“Yeah. Kind of. You have to watch it to understand. How come you were there on Saturday, by the way? I didn’t know you liked anime?”

“I don’t. I really know nothing about it,” he admits. “It’s Dahye’s work. I was just helping her out for the day.”

“Your sister?”

“Yeah. It was really cool, though, being there. I had no idea what it was like from the inside, you know? It seemed like you were having loads of fun with your friends.”

“Sorry about them,” Junhui says, starting to rush his words. “They’re embarrassing. We’re all kind of nerdy, and they get really worked up about things sometimes, I know Soonyoung was a bit much—”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he reassures him. “Seriously, they seem like fun guys! I don’t think I’d know how to talk to them, though. I don’t know much about anime even after Saturday.”

“You talk to me just fine.”

“Well, you’re pretty easy to talk to.”

Junhui smiles up at him, finally, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Really?”

“For sure. You’re a good listener. You must’ve heard me talk about Overwatch so often—I couldn’t stop thinking about it on Saturday, actually, after I’d seen you. I had no idea you were into that sort of thing, you know, and there must be so much to it that you haven’t told me about. Do I talk too much?”

“No, no, you don’t, really,” Junhui says. “You’re easy to talk to, too. It’s fine.”

“Still,” he says. “If you want to talk to me about anime or anything else you like, I don’t mind. Even if I don’t know much about it, it’s interesting. It seems like it’s a big part of your life, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose it is. You really haven’t seen anything before? Not even, like, Dragon Ball Z?”

“Only Pokémon,” he admits. “I’m more of a games guy.”

“Oh, I know,” Junhui laughs. Their teacher finally enters the classroom, glaring around at his students as he makes his way across the room.

“How about you recommend something for me to start with?” he says, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. The class volume is lowering to a hush around them, and he’d rather not be called out before the lesson even begins.

Junhui glances at him before looking back down at his notepad. He writes something on it, then tears the page out, careful not to make a sound.

“This is the anime Gin is from,” he says, passing it over to him. _Hotarubi no Mori e_ is scribbled across it, with one of his cute cat doodles waving from the corner.

“Thanks,” he says, slipping it into his own notebook. “I’ll watch it soon, I promise.”

Junhui smiles up at him, then turns to the front to take down some actual class notes. Seungcheol rests his head against the wall and watches him write for a while, nimble hand moving quickly across the page.

-

He finds _Hotarubi no Mori e_ online after perusing a few questionable websites, settling in to watch it once he’s finished his attempts at studying. It’s kind of late, so he keeps the volume down low and his lights switched off, the gentle glow of his laptop screen casting shadows across his bedsheets.

The movie starts out a little slow, but beautiful, panning over a lush forest setting with a stunning soundtrack to boot. As the narration starts, he opens up his Kakao chat with Junhui, thumb hovering over the message box. The two of them don’t talk often outside of class—mostly exchanging homework notes or test reminders—but he’s thought about messaging him more often than he’d like to admit. It’s just hard to know what to say, hard to know if Junhui wants to talk too, or if their relationship is confined to the boundary of their math desk. Junhui is funny, though, and one of the nicest people he knows. It would be nice to hang out with him more.

 _Starting the anime!_ he sends before he can think twice about it, then locks his phone, paying attention to the little girl on screen. She’s walking around the forest on her own, crying out for help.

Junhui’s character, Gin, doesn’t take long to appear. His cosplay seems very accurate, visually, and he can see why Junhui chose the character for himself—they have some similarities, personality-wise. He doesn’t speak much at first, but he seems kind, playing with Hotaru before leading her out of the forest.

His phone pings with a reply. _Hope you like it!!!_

It’s not a long movie, and he gets into it quickly. Hotaru comes back every summer to play with Gin—she grows, and Gin stays the same, but the mask comes off partway through. Right before they’re set to go on the date at the festival, he sends Junhui an update.

_This is so cute, it really suits you! I see why you like it :)_

His phone pings again after a minute or two, but he’s distracted. The date was so sweet, they’re surely going to kiss after this—but then Gin stops the little boy from falling—

“What?” he says out loud, watching Gin start to dissolve.

 _WHY!!_ He sends quickly, watching as Gin and Hotaru hug for the first time. Gin disappears in her arms, and she is left with only his robe and mask.

There are only a few minutes left on the movie, and he looks down at his phone to see a string of crying emojis from Junhui. It comes to a finish as Hotaru laments her past summers in the forest; Gin doesn’t come back to life. Seungcheol is left staring at a black screen, mouth open, blinking fast—on impulse, he picks up his phone, and presses to call Junhui.

“Wen Junhui!” he calls down the phone once the line connects. “How could you do this to me!”

“Are you crying?” Junhui’s voice says, high and surprised.

“No!” he exclaims, rubbing his wet eyes. “Maybe! Why did Gin have to die?”

“Didn’t you see it coming? When he said he would disappear if he touched a human…”

“Well, yes! But it’s so sad! Hotaru deserved better! I would be so upset if my forest boyfriend disappeared after so many summers with him.”

“That’s the beauty of it! The story wouldn’t be the same otherwise. They could never touch each other, and neither of them would truly be happy in adulthood. The time they had was precious while it lasted, and her childhood was magical.”

“I didn’t expect you to be into such bittersweet things, you know.”

“So… you didn’t like it?”

“I did! I thought it was beautiful. But I wasn’t expecting it to end so sadly.”

“Sorry I didn’t warn you,” he says, but there’s a smile in his voice. “It’s just better watched that way.”

“Is that the sort of thing you usually watch? Romantic stuff?”

“Yep! Joshua always teases me for it, because they’re usually aimed at girls, but I don’t mind. They’re good stories, and guys can like cute things too.”

“I agree!” he says, eyes fluttering shut as he speaks. Junhui’s voice is soft with the hour, gently muffled by the phone connection, and it makes Seungcheol relax into his sheets. “When I was younger, I used to really like those games where you look after little pets? You know, _Moshi Monsters_ , _Nintendogs_ , _Neopets_. My older brother used to tell me I was going to turn out gay if I kept playing girl’s games.”

There’s a pause on Junhui’s end, and Seungcheol opens his eyes again.

“He’s an asshole, to be clear. And the joke is on him, because I was gay all along.”

The silence down the line is stifling. He’s been thinking about telling Junhui for a while—he seems like the type you can trust with a secret—but suddenly his chest is growing tight, waiting for his response, reconsidering exactly what he just loaded onto his seatmate. Perhaps he should’ve thought about this more. Oh, fuck, Cheol, you’ve done it now.

“We’re more similar than I thought, you know,” Junhui says, voice small. “When I was young, I liked to dress up in my mom’s clothes sometimes. Once, I told this friend about it… and he asked me if I was gay. We were like, nine years old?” He takes in a shaky breath. “I suppose that was the beginning of me realising more about myself.”

Seungcheol breathes out. “Wow. I had no idea.”

“Really? Seungkwan tells me it’s obvious from a mile away.”

“No, I didn’t know. I guess I never thought about it.”

“I’m always wondering about those sorts of things—who else might be like me, or who might be able to tell. I never thought you would be one of them, though.”

He laughs gently. “All my friends were surprised when I came out, too. Because I do sports and play computer games, right? People don’t expect it.”

“Right, you don’t seem the type. But somehow it still suits you.”

“That seems silly, though, doesn’t it? To have stereotypes like that. It makes us too closed-minded. We’re all just people, at the end of the day, so of course we’re going to have similarities and differences.”

“You’re right. Totally right,” Junhui says, quietly.

He cradles the phone to his ear, speaking softly. “I hope you don’t mind that I suddenly called you and we started talking about this.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind at all. I always like talking to you. Thank you for watching the movie I recommended, too. Even my anime friends don’t watch things that fast.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I wanted to. Even if it did make me cry.”

“Right, sorry.”

“You’re not sorry,” he says, pouting. “You knew it would bring me pain!”

“Only a little bit! Only the good kind!”

“Sure, sure.”

“I’ll come with a formal apology tomorrow, I promise!”

“I look forward to it,” he says, eyes closing again. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you then,” Junhui says, sincere. “Good night. Sleep well.”

“You too. Sweet dreams.”

-

When he arrives at their desk the next day, there’s a box of fancy chocolates placed on his seat, shielded away from prying eyes by the angle of Junhui’s body. He almost sits on it, actually, but stutters halfway down to his seat when Junhui starts gesturing wildly at his butt.

“Oh?” he says, discreetly picking up the box and glancing over at Junhui. He understands why he wouldn’t want the rest of the class to see it (oh, the rumours that would go around)—but why exactly is it here in the first place?

“My apology,” Junhui says in a low voice.

He looks down at the box with wide eyes. “Oh! You really didn’t have to, though! I wasn’t serious—I mean, I did cry, but it’s okay, I’m just a big cry-baby—”

“It’s okay,” Junhui says, smile spreading fast. “I wanted to. I was planning on giving you them anyway for support through the movie, but you watched it faster than I expected.”

“Ah,” he says, slipping the box into his bag. “I had some free time last night, and I was intrigued. It was a nice thing to go to sleep on, actually. So heart-warming and pretty.” He looks up at Junhui, who’s already looking back at him.

It feels like there’s been a significant shift in their relationship since last night. He’d ventured out of his comfort zone to watch Junhui’s movie, to call him, to share a big piece of himself, and Junhui had given plenty back in return. Junhui always does give his all into things, he thinks—diligent in his studies, and his dancing, and now he can see it in his passions, too. It feels kind of special to be privy to so much more of Junhui over such a short space of time, and to know that they’re both the same, in more ways than they’d thought. They’ve had the same growth. Trusted each other with the same secret.

“I’m glad! Really, so happy that you like it. It’s really precious to me.”

“I can tell. Is it your favourite?”

“Yeah, I think so. That and _Fruits Basket_. That one is sweet, but I don’t know if you’d like it as much.”

“What else do you think I’d like?”

“Well…” Junhui looks down at the table, fiddling with his pen. “I was actually wondering if you wanted to come over this weekend? My mom is out at a work thing, so I thought it would be fun to hang out. I could show you this movie—it’s so good, everyone I know has seen it, the plot is just perfect, and it’s another romance but I promise it’s not as sad! Or at least, I think it’s not. Anyway, I thought I would ask if you wanted to, unless you’re busy this weekend. It’s okay if you’re doing something else already. It was just an idea.”

He watches Junhui ramble, smile growing. He doesn’t know why he’s never pushed their relationship before, when they’re so well suited to each other, when Junhui is so sweet and excited to share what he loves with Seungcheol, and when Seungcheol is so endeared by him.

“Movie night sounds great,” he says. “I’ll bring the snacks!”

“Okay,” Junhui says, breathless, grinning. “I’ll send my address over Kakao tonight. You’ll like the movie, I know it!”

“It’ll be fun!” he agrees, and then their teacher calls them to attention, and he does his best to hide his smile behind his hand.

-

Junhui greets him at the door with a wide smile when he arrives on Saturday afternoon, ushering him into the quiet Wen flat, neat and tidy and well-lived in.

“I got us some snacks, but I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I hope these are good,” Junhui is saying as Seungcheol moves into the main room. “Do you want to get started straight away? Oh, did you bring something too?”

“Yeah,” he says, biting on his smile and holding up the carrier bag. “There are some chocolates, and I got us some mochi and sushi snacks and stuff. It looks like we’re set for the night!”

“Sure,” Junhui says, taking the bag from him and setting his snacks out with the crackers, cookies, tofu, and rice snacks already on the table. “If you want to sleep over, by the way, you can, I don’t know how late you want to stay and I didn’t want to presume, but if you don’t want to walk back late it’s totally fine for you to sleep here!”

“I think I will,” he says. “Thanks. We’ll see how things go.”

“Okay,” Junhui agrees, suddenly quiet, looking out at their setup in front of the TV. “You ready?”

“Actually, I got us something else, too. You haven’t eaten yet, right? I passed through the market on the way here, so I picked us up some street food.” He digs into his pocket for the foil-wrapped surprise, holding one out to Junhui.

He takes the food like he’s accepting his precious gift, carefully unwrapping it in front of Seungcheol. When he sees what’s contained in it, firm and warm, he audibly gasps, eyes going even rounder.

“Sweet potato! I love sweet potato!”

“I know,” he says, laughing. “You’ve told me. It looked so good, I couldn’t pass it up.”

“Thank you!” he says, cradling it in his hands. “Really, you didn’t have to!”

“It’s no problem. You’re the one hosting, after all.”

“Wow,” Junhui says, amazed, like Seungcheol had given him more than a potato. “I’m going to eat this right now, it smells amazing.”

“Let’s get started straight away, then,” he says, unwrapping his own foil and sitting down on the worn sofa, aged and sinking and perfect for movie-binging. “What’s it called?”

“ _Kimi no Na wa_ ,” he says. “ _Your Name_.”

The movie starts out delightfully fun, easy to watch over the food in their hands, Taki and Mitsuha running around in each other’s bodies as they figure out why they keep swapping places.

“How are they going to meet if they’re separated like this?” he asks some twenty minutes in, once he’s done with the sweet potato and reaching for the cookies.

“You’ll see! It’ll come together!”

“They are pretty cute,” he muses, watching the main characters write passive-aggressive notes on each other’s skin. “I’m kind of afraid you’re setting me up for another heartbreak, though.”

“I’m not going to tell you what happens! You’ll see!” Junhui says, pulling on his arm and laughing.

“But they’re going into another forest!” he whines, pointing at Mitsuha and her family on screen. “I’m scared!”

“It’s okay! It’s important for the plot! Pay attention!”

“Okay, okay! I’ll watch!”

Another twenty minutes on, when Taki can’t reach Mitsuha, doesn’t hear from her and doesn’t return to her body, Seungcheol is afraid. When the truth is revealed, his world shifts.

“What?” he says, watching Taki explore the desolate town.

“I know!” Junhui says, half bouncing on the sofa next to him. “I know, I know!”

“You told me it wasn’t sad!”

“We’re not even halfway through!” Junhui exclaims. Seungcheol sinks back into the sofa, gripping his arm right back.

“You’re going to make me cry again, I know it. If I cry, I’m blaming it on you!”

“Ahhh!” Junhui shouts, gripping Seungcheol’s bicep and throwing his weight around. Seungcheol stays firmly rooted in place, watching the movie progress, determined not cry.

-

An hour later, he’s curled up on Junhui’s sofa, pulling a blanket over his face as he talks through tears.

“But it’s so beautiful, the way they did it—the different themes of time and fate, all the magic and love that connected them, even if they couldn’t always remember each other... oh my God. They really were perfect for each other. I’m so glad they found each other. But why, Junhui, after all that time…”

“I know,” Junhui says, coming to sit next to him with a tub of ice cream, two spoons at the ready. “It’s a perfect movie.”

“I totally wasn’t expecting that. I can see why you like it so much. I’ll never be the same again.”

Junhui pats his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll ever find something like it. I cry every time I watch it.”

He sits up, face warm and wet, gratefully taking a spoon. “I think I need the next week off school to recover.”

Junhui laughs at him. “I’d like that, too. I’m working on this Sailor Moon cosplay right now, but I feel like I have no time for all the sewing in between schoolwork. I’m going to this meetup next weekend, so I really want it finished by then…”

“Wait, you make your outfits?” he says around a mouthful of ice cream. “Did you make the mask you wore last week too?”

“Oh, yes,” Junhui says, looking at his spoon meticulously. “Mom taught me to sew, and it’s cheaper to put outfits together yourself than to buy replicas. More fun, too. Gin’s mask is one of the things I’m most proud of.”

“Do you have others? Different outfits?”

“A few, yeah. People usually prepare them for conventions, but Minghao and I kind of have a thing going, he’s good at photography and will come and take my picture, and I have this Instagram…”

“Junhui!” he exclaims, putting the ice cream down. “Are you secretly famous online? For cosplay?”

“I have a few followers,” he says, cheeks pink, scratching behind his ear. “It’s just for fun, really…”

“You have to show me!” he insists. “Can I see your costumes? I can’t believe you could make outfits all this time and you never told me! That’s so cool!”

“I can show you the clothes,” he says, standing. “It’s nothing though, really, and you probably won’t know most of the references…”

Seungcheol follows him through to a small bedroom, filled by a bed and wardrobe alone. Junhui opens it and starts to meticulously pull out his outfits, laying them carefully across his bed for viewing. He was right—Seungcheol doesn’t recognise the references, but he’s still impressed by his array of outfits, the way they look so professionally made and well-kept. There’s a white robe, a Japanese school uniform, a white and blue dress, as well as miscellaneous parts made of leather and cloth—all made by Junhui, all clearly designed to fit him. Junhui does this in secret, for fun, and he’s really good at it—best of all, he’s chosen to share it with Seungcheol.

He pulls a box of wigs out last, set on the floor between their feet. “I have more pieces coming soon, and some old designs in storage, but these are the ones I like the best.”

“Wow,” he says, feeling the robe material between two fingers. “You’re really dedicated to this. It’s amazing. How does your mom feel about it?”

Junhui sits on the floor beside his wig box, legs crossed, and Seungcheol takes a seat opposite him. “She’s okay with it,” he says, smiling at the ground. “She’s the best. Always been supportive of my weird interests. It’s been just the two of us for a long time, and she takes good care of me.”

“She sounds really great. She must be, to have a son like you.”

Junhui flushes up to the tips of his ears, shoulders hunching inwards in embarrassment. “I’m really lucky,” he agrees, finally looking up at Seungcheol. “I have good people around me.”

“I could never do any of this like you do. The dressing up seems so fun, though. I’d like to try it, sometime.”

“I could help you! There are some really simple ones you could do, because as long as you look like a character, it’s cosplay, right? Like the movie we just watched, for example—not many people will be dressing up as Taki, because he doesn’t have any stand-out looks. But if you were starting out with cosplay, perhaps you’d get a wig, and buy a coat that looks like his, and put it over a school uniform. You know? It’s straightforward, but still fun.”

“Oh, that’s a really good idea! I’d like to try it, but wouldn’t I need a Mitsuha with me to be recognisable?”

“Well,” Junhui says, playing with the latch of his wig box. “I always thought it would be fun to do a couples cosplay with some main characters like that. You know, those two especially, because they’re so connected? They have the red thread between them and everything. It would be cute to walk around a convention hall like that with someone.”

“We could totally do that!” Seungcheol says. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Yes, but you’d have to be my boyfriend first,” Junhui says all in a rush, smiling awkwardly at Seungcheol.

“I mean, I could be.” He bites down on his lip. “If you wanted me to be.”

“Y-you could be? You want to?”

“Only if you want to.”

Junhui blinks rapidly. “You want to be my boyfriend?”

“Uh. Yes. If that’s okay with you.”

“Oh,” Junhui says, breaking out into a toothy smile, hands coming up to cover his red face. “What? Seriously?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, yes!” he says. “I thought you already knew about my giant crush on you, because of how weird Seungkwan and Soonyoung were being at the con, I thought you were just really nice and friendly anyway, but then you came out to me the other day and I wasn’t sure what it meant, oh my God Seungkwan will never let me live this down—”

He takes Junhui’s hand from the box lid and holds it in his own, giving him a hopeful squeeze.

“I really like you too,” he says, beaming. Junhui squeezes his hand right back, and bursts into delighted laughter.

-

Seungkwan and Soonyoung start catcalling them when they first arrive in their couples cosplay, Seungcheol with his Taki-styled hair, Junhui confident enough to wear his Mitsuha skirt to the convention. He’s been growing his hair out for just the occasion, now long enough to skim his jaw, adorned with a red bow at the back. They have the red thread tying them together by the wrists, too, hands comfortably clasped together between them.

“What are you supposed to be?” Seungkwan says as they enter the queue together. “Soulmates?”

“They don’t need to dress up as that,” Soonyoung says, elbowing Seungkwan. “That’s their everyday look.”

“ _Kimi no Na wa_ ,” Seungcheol provides, as Junhui goes to wrap his arms around Soonyoung’s shoulders and shake him. Soonyoung just laughs, enjoying his embarrassment.

“Ah,” Seungkwan says, eyeing up the red thread. “You’ve really committed.”

“We said we’d do this the first day we confessed, so we had to follow through,” he says, gently tugging Junhui away from Soonyoung.

“Understandable. It’s not the first thing I’d think to cosplay, but I have to admit it’s pretty cute.”

“You can’t say anything,” Soonyoung says. “You wear the same outfit to every con, because the only anime you bother to keep up with is _Haikyu!!_.”

Seungkwan scoffs. “That’s big talk coming from you, who exclusively cosplays characters from the _Naruto_ franchise.”

“It’s a big franchise! There are options, and at least I do different characters. We all know you stick with Hinata because you like carrying that volleyball around.”

“Oh, you think? I can show you why I like it, just stand still for a second, Hyung—"

“Your tickets?” the staffer says, and Seungcheol breathes out, sending her a mental thanks.

“We’re actually going to hit up the gaming stalls first, if that’s okay with you guys,” Junhui says once they enter the hall together.

“Gaming?” Seungkwan says, as he throws his volleyball at Soonyoung’s head. “Why there?”

“I’m interested,” Seungcheol says. Soonyoung squawks at the assault, putting his hands up for protection, and the ball bounces right back into Seungkwan’s hands. “Sorry—we can meet up later if you like?”

“Oh, right, I forgot you’re a gamer. We could meet back up for the Studio Ghibli panel at eleven?” Seungkwan watches Soonyoung with a pleased smile, and Soonyoung strikes a defensive stance.

“Sounds good,” Junhui says. “If you’re both alive by then.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on him,” Soonyoung says, fists up in front of his face.

“See you then,” Seungcheol says, gently tugging on their red thread to pull Junhui away. The other two will be fine.

As they pass through the hall, people hand them leaflets and pens and promotional lanyards, which they hoard in their pockets or shove in their schoolbags. They wander between new game release stalls and creator’s booths, and watch a competitive couple sample the new Nintendo console on a big screen. Pass by a guy dressed up as Sonic the Hedgehog, and several dressed as Princess Peach. Somewhere around the _Final Fantasy_ stall, they get a compliment on their own cosplay.

“You guys look so cute!” a young woman says, stylishly grubby in her own Lara Croft getup. “ _Your Name_ , right? You nailed it!”

“That’s right!” Seungcheol says, as Junhui beams at her and clutches his hand. “Thank you! You look great too!”

He’s buzzing all the rest of the way around the hall after that, when they pass the _Call of Duty_ stall and merge back into the anime section, when they pass by other people in school uniform cosplays, and when he catches others still nodding at them in approval.

“The community is so nice, seriously,” he says. “I can see why you’ve been doing this so long.”

“I know. I love it. I’m really glad you wanted to come here with me,” Junhui says, looking at the No-Face cosplay in front of them with a smile.

“I’m glad you invited me. You’ve trusted me with so much.”

Junhui looks over at him. “I could only do it because it’s you.”

Seungcheol looks down at their linked hands with a smile. “Hey. I think we missed something from our cosplay.”

“Huh? What?”

He takes a pen from his pocket and pulls Junhui’s hand into his own. Writes _I love you_ on his open palm, in slightly smudged ink. Junhui looks down at the writing, then up at Seungcheol’s face, eyes glassy.

“You’re perfect.”

Then he pulls on Seungcheol’s hand, bringing him in for a sweet kiss on the mouth, right there in the middle of the convention floor. Their hands are gripped together, and Junhui’s long hair tickles Seungcheol’s cheeks. It’s perfect.

They part, and Seungcheol beams at Junhui, cupping his cheeks in his hands—

“Hey! Choi Seungcheol!” a voice yells over the crowd, and he startles, turning to find the noise. There, two stalls over, his sister is leaning over her table with an incredulous look on her face. “Is this why you told me you couldn’t help this weekend? You scheming little bastard! Who’s the Mitsuha you’re sucking face with?”

“Oh my God, we have to go,” he says, gripping Junhui’s hand and pulling him back towards the gaming section. No-Face watches them go blankly.

“Choi Seungcheol!” Dahye yells, unconcerned about deafening her customers. “You get back here!”

“Cheol!” Junhui says as they run, laughter in his voice. “I love you too!”

Seungcheol laughs, and turns them into a safe corner, pulling Junhui in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i have very little anime knowledge, and wrote this because cotton requested weeb jun, so pls forgive if anything sounds off! thank u [ner](https://twitter.com/adore_boos) for helping me weeb-proof it :)
> 
> you can find me on twt [here](https://twitter.com/hope_boos), with further links in my pinned!  
> you can also rt this fic [here!](https://twitter.com/hope_boos/status/1286738912812163072?s=19)
> 
> title is the english interpretation of hotarubi no mori e :)


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